


)(ish Spawn

by MorbidOptimist



Series: GenePool [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha Rose Lalonde (mentioned) - Freeform, Cover Art, Digital Art, Dirk Strider (mentioned) - Freeform, F/F, Mommy Issues, NSFW Art, Trans Roxy Lalonde, Underwater, Underwater Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:13:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidOptimist/pseuds/MorbidOptimist
Summary: Her Imperious Condescention's favorite lap-catfish is Roxy Lalonde, but not for the reasons that Roxy grew up expecting.





	)(ish Spawn

**Author's Note:**

> commissioned by futchfangbattle (tumblr) art by myself, MorbidOptimisim (tumblr)

She pressed closer to the empress’ abdomen; her patron wasn’t much warmer than the glimly lit water bubbling along her skin, but it helped her feel better about the chill, if only in a placebic sense. It also helped, she was sure, in that she knew her patron usually preferred her in such proximities.

It was easier to feed her breath, if she stayed near the source; images flashed briefly through her mind, of midday swims wherein she had tested the boundaries of her psiioniic leash and had been introduced to the stupefying sensations of prolonged drowning and hypothermia while from afar, the Condesce had kept her from dying as she leisurely swam up to reclaim her, a slight chuckle to her fang filled grin.

Roxy tried not to dwell on the notion; like the sunken cityscape inhabited only by nefarious aquatic fauna and skeletal imprints dotting the seabed, some things were better left unthought about.

As if to stave off the memory, she lifted herself to the Condesce’s chest, pressed her lips to one of the breastlike swim bladders and sucked a breath of fresh air from the vibrantly pigmented soft tissue; the empress kept the pressure sensitive sacs with an ample surplus, likely to balance out the troves of gold she embellished her body with, and it had the added bonus of providing Roxy with a way to breathe that didn't rely on shoving alien tech and specialized bugs down her throat.  

And, if she were to be completely honest, she took comfort in the way the troll’s chest felt against her and to the way the air quietly pulled into her mouth; there was something maternal to it, something the caused the Empress to settle herself, humming a vibratious hum through her chest, that drew Roxy to cling a little harder and take a few breaths more.

The Condesce idly lowered a hand to her back; Roxy expelled a humming sigh as the hand that dwarfed her began kneading her spine as if she were a personable housecat.

She wondered, as the troll began working her divets beneath her shoulder blades with her ring finger and thumb, what sorts of things haunted the Empress’ mind.

She could think of no reason, that the Condesce would take her to this aquatic meadow, sometimes for hours, sometimes for weeks and do little more than sit.

It was the silent sittings that affected Roxy the most, she would admit.

But she supposed she couldn’t really blame her patron for them; after all she mused, and not for the first time, what was time to an effectually immortal being?

Her thoughts ebbed away as the hand on her back massaged into her sides and against her hips; her eyes drifted shut, trusting in the knowledge that her patron knew her body well enough to properly mind her claws and herculean strength and instead, focused instead on the way the troll’s pads rolled and stroked her muscles into a weightless, contented heap.

She wished she could purr.

As it was, she simply let the empress pet her as she was want, until her back began to protest at the long prolonged intensive treatment.

Roxy pressed backwards against the Condesce hand until she fell and landed against the troll’s thighs, offering her exposed belly for the troll to pursue as she pleased.    

The Condesce, unfazed though moving slower, continued her attentions; their strokes working oils and scent markers into her skin.

As if the mountain of gold ornamenting her limbs or the petite scar perched on her thigh didn't highlighting her status already, Roxy mused; still, she was grateful for the added protection against the ocean’s salinity and sentiment buried perhaps unwittingly in the glands beneath the empress’ claws.

She wondered, not for the first time, why Her Imperial Condescension would expend such effort to keep her alive and under thumb. She had spent decades in her quest of Earth’s takeover and subsequent aquatic annihilation; as far as Roxy knew, she and Dirk were the last two humans alive. The fact that the Empress held her here, in her lap now, supple and pliant, not gouging her eyes out or stabbing a trident through her heart, when her own mother had been one of, -if not the greatest threat, to the troll’s conquest, was a thought as unsettling as the way the light glimmered across the crumbling steel of the silently looming waterlogged skyscrapers.

As the Condesce trailed her claws lightly over her stomach and up across her thighs, Roxy reached up and reached at the troll’s forefinger, as if she were capable of pulling it towards her.

The Condesce’s hand stalled, likely form the flurry of movement Roxy’s actions had swirled into the water than anything tactile that the troll was able to feel in her long, lacquered claw.

The Empress’ head recoiled on itself and her amphibiously lidded eyes focused their attentions on her, nearly making Roxy shiver for their fuschia gleaming intensities.

Roxy offered a nervous, half lopsided little smile.

All at once, she felt the Condesce inside of her, peering into her as she both looked out from and looked on her. Roxy had yet to quite get used to the feeling of telepathy, and it left her feeling more exposed than the lack of anything other jewelry clothing her form.  

“Whale?” Rang the Condesce’s voice in her mind.

“You killed my mother;” was the first thing that tumbled out of Roxy’s thoughts. She watched the Empress unapologetically and without fear.

“She was a shellion and a traitor,” the Condesce thought to her, her voice all-encompassing; “I had to do it. She understood.”

“She hated you,” Roxy thought back; “You guys despised each other.”

The Empress smiled. The expression was strange and stretched over the troll’s primordial features; her fins and frills alight with shifting patterns of bioluminescence.  

“Net one to be caught, that gill. Best hakefin I ever wrassetled against, for a human,” the Condesce thought, pitches of pleased notions and memories in her projected imagery; “Shore we both locked horns about things, but that’s the point of kisfishitude; had a human husbansprit once, raised a couple’a guppies of his, but Roese was the only human I pitched with and sea was so excited for us to spawn you. All sea ever talked atrout when sea wasn’t trying to krill my prawns or writing those clambaked books of hers.”

Roxy failed to contain her surprise, a stream of bubbles poured from her nose and seawater poured into her parted lips, causing her to gasp; the Condesce lazily pressed a finger to her chest, forcing the water back out and flickered her amusement across their psychic connection.

“Water you so surprised for?” the Empress thought to Roxy as she collected herself again.   

“I didn’t know you two… hated each other in _-that-_ way, is all,” Roxy thought back as she tried to envision her mother riddled with grimdark and the exly-benthic empress in some hazy place, with tangled limbs and jumbled breaths; she blushed, and tried to avoid the Empress’ stare.

The Condesce lifted her chin with the tip of her claw.   

“Where did you fink you got your eyes from, gill? Your Momma’s moirail couldn’t have made you higher than a goldfish, no matter how many times she chumbucketed him -ya’ bouy Dirk is proof enough of that- and he certainly didn’t give you your lung capacity, catfish.”

“Reely?” was all Roxy could think to reply.

“Lemme shell it to you like this sweetpolyp; if it wasn’t true, you’d be sipping saltwater till your body tuna’d blue, and if you had been a whole trawl, I’haddocked forked you by now, and not in the fin way, a long, long, time ago,” the Empress thought to her; “The slurry you slithered from might not have been from a Mothergrub, but you’re mine just the same.”

Roxy couldn’t scramble together enough thoughts to form a reply, and so let her sense of wonder and astonishment to seep through the connection instead.

The Condesce made a loud, rumbling sound that bubbled through Roxy’s insides and cut their mental connection, which was fine by her.

The Condesce gently scooped her into her palm; Roxy sat up and reached out to the Empress’ face as she was brought to her lips. She sat perfectly still as the Condesce smooshed her lips against her and affectionately rubbed them around her face and chest. Thankfully, the Empress inhaled through the vents in her facial plating, rather than by parting her lips while she kissed her, and thus avoided the possibility of accidentally slicing open Roxy’s skin with her massive, razor-sharp needle-like teeth.  

After a moment the Condesce drew back and regarded her.

Her expression must not have pleased the Empress, for the troll nuzzled her once more before lowering her back to her chest; Roxy gratefully caught her breath.  

As Roxy leeched air from the Condesce’s chest, the Empress’s free hand drifted between her thighs; she could feel the Empress’ body lift and quell slightly, silently signaling to her that her patron had a specific idea to spark some more spunk back into her spirit.

Roxy knew the empress’ claws would easily part fabric, exposing the tooth-like tubercles clasped together to form a nearly impenetrable seam which would slowly, due to the ministrations, widen and lift until a small portion of the troll’s nook would be rendered exposed.  

She’d had a few brief looks at the Empress’ inner workings, but there would only be a short moment to draw them in, before the Condesce's bulge would being to unsheath and slither out, exponentially unfolding itself into greater girths and sizes; fronds and barbels slowly unfurling from the main organelle, her adorning frills and esca tipped illicium alight with vibrantly radiating patterns of light, as the ocean near instantly sucking up and dispersing all of the Empress’ genital fluids.

True to her expectations, the water around her took on a darker, vivid magenta hue.

Roxy inhaled one long breath, pressed herself more fully against the Empress, and clamped her eyes shut as she felt the thickness of the empress’ hectocotylus rise up to slide against her flesh.

The bulge started to worm its way against her, flicking and nudging along her ass and thighs; the Condesce kept her hand pressed gently against her back while her other was no doubt spurring things into gear from underneath the scenes.  

Roxy kept her mouth affixed to the empress’ chest, her tongue beginning to lap along the soft tissue lining the air-blader’s skin vents.

She nearly inhaled oceanwater, instead of air, when the Condesce’s bulge worked its way between her legs, it slid slowly along the natural crevice of her body, and came to a kissing halt around her own ‘tanglebuddy’, as her patron was prone to calling it.  

As the organ began to rut against her, rolling her hips in steady waves of motion, Roxy sighed, a small stream of bubbles pouring from her mouth; she pressed her lips together quickly, to keep the ocean out, and took a moment to marvel at the way the rows of unshed eggs and sacs of slurry underneath the bugle’s skin created a wondrous amount of tactile stimulation rolling against her body.

She briefly wondered if the feeling was the reason behind Dirk’s enamourment of old-world horses, and grinned despite herself.

The Condesce seemed pleased by her change in demeanor, and leaned back in her throne; her hair billowed out into the sea around them like a colossal cephalopod that soaked up any light that touched it as if it were a fluidic void.

Roxy hummed airily, for the Empress’ benefit as well as to enjoy her own delight, and fell content in the lulling rhythm of the Condesce’s bulge.

 


End file.
